Promises: An Aenima Vignette by Te 6/98 Daddy793@aol.com In a message dated 6/5/98 3:18:47 PM, L.C. and Annie wrote: <<<< Oh, I'm just SWAMPED right now...how about I get my Krycek clone to do it for me? ;) L.C. who is aware that this is not really PUNISHING Annie... >> Nope, but I need a good spankin' anyway. ::rubs hands together and waits::>> Alex knelt on the cracking beige tile, trying very hard not to stretch his bruised and aching muscles too much. It had been a... strenuous... night. //You just *had* to tell him to do it hard didn't you?// //You think if I hadn't he would've been all tender caresses? I was *hoping* to appeal to his perverse love for disobeying orders.// //Liar.// In any case, he was sticky, stubbled, and stank to high heaven. His sleeping companion wasn't much better off and the bed sheets were an absolute disaster. But Alex was feeling generous, and a nice, long soak in the tub would do the both of them right. He'd found bath salts in Mulder's luggage--the good kind without all the irritating bubbles-- and he let the scent of almonds wafted on steam carry him off to a precarious doze as he waited for the tub to fill. Suddenly, there was a hand around his neck and he gasped in a lungful of hot water. "Good *morning*, sunshine!" //Would this be the third or fourth time he's tried to kill you?// //Third, I think...// Mulder yanked him out of the tub. A bleary glance revealed that *this* time he'd simply yanked the iron bar he was cuffed to clear of the frame. //I really need to stop sleeping around this man.// "Mulder--" "I don't like restraints, Alex." Another ducking. Longer this time. "You... didn't specify how... strongly you felt about it, Mulder." Under again and his father was waiting for him. Grinning through the remnants of front teeth shattered by a shotgun barrel and beckoning.... beckoning... "I thought I should clarify." Alex felt the tightening that signified another duck. He sucked in a gasp through the acid burn in his lungs. "Stop! Dammit, you *promised* we... we were done... with this..." A thoughtful stroke along his nape. "But you tied me up again..." There were tears running down Alex's face, squeezing past lids clenched againt the agony of the salts. "I... repeat... you did *not*... specify." The hand finally left his neck, and Alex felt trembling arms wrap around his chest. "Please, Alex... not the cuffs again.. I can't... you don't know..." "I'll remember... but will you?" //As if it matters...// "There's noise in my head... always so fucking loud and sometimes I can't hear anything else... but you... you're always there and I know I could make you stop I know I could..." Alex flexed his arms to make Mulder's fall away and stood. The older man was on his knees, arms limp at his sides, iron bar scraping at the ceramic with each twitch. His head was thrown back, and Alex could see the eyes roaming endlessly under straining lids. He rested a gentle hand on the pale shoulder and squeezed. "I won't tie you up again, Mulder. But this... your oh-so- entertaining attempt at morning after angst... It has to stop." The eyes shot open and fixed themselves firmly to Alex's own. //Do you hear me breathing? Does it make you want to scream?// "What else is there for us, Alex?" The younger man squeezed again and Mulder rose to his feet, swaying lightly. Eye to eye and filthy with each other... there was a beauty to this. Alex kissed him lightly and backed away a little, making an expansive gesture taking in the brown on brown decor, the mildewed tile, the bare bulb buzzing piss-toned light on it all. "With all this splendor at our fingertips do you even have to ask?" His other hand roamed to the darkened cheek and stroked. A hoarse laugh, tantalizingly sane in its brevity. "I never figured you for a romantic." "You always did bring out the best in me..." Mulder leaned into the touch, finally, eyes stilled and fluttered half-shut for a moment. "Alex... I need to not do this again..." //*You* need?// "What's it gonna take to make you keep your promises?" "Mmm... a token, a gift... a way to remember you by... You have such nice hands, Alex..." //You *did* hide the knife, didn't you?// "How do you want them, Fox?" A wince, of course, but so long as he kept him *here*... "Tell me. Show me." A crooked grin and Mulder stood straight, leaning in for a slow, gentle kiss before turning and kneeling again before the tub. "Are you sure?" Mulder tossed a //Challenge? Plea?// look over his shoulder but didn't answer. "Then we'll do it your way. And you'll remember." Alex knelt at the other man's side, trailing a hand over a spine rippling with tension, over downy cheeks and between, unable to keep himself from toying with the hardening flesh beneath his fingertips. "We've already... tried this..." Alex tugged lightly at the wiry hair, pressing close enough to whisper. "And what makes you think I'll ever grow tired of the attempt?" A slow lick along a rough cheek. "But we'll play it your way." The first slap was light, testing, met with what could only be a disappointed silence. Alex pulled himself down and in and let the memories slowly flood -- an indulgence he almost never allowed. Courtesies met with disdain, unwanted intimacies with car bonnets, phone banks and guns in his belly and mouth and it was all fire and anger and unanswered questions and his hand rose and fell over and over again and the shocks traveled unheeded down his arm and he was falling and buried wrapped up inside the then //Anything you want.// until the now could pierce through the clinging stifling fabric the rag-bag of a cluttered existence but as always... "I promise!" ...Mulder was the fiery blade that could cut through all. Alex threw back his head and howled at the strain of pulling his last blow. The older man had his head bent, sobbing, hips bucking mindlessly at stained porcelain. When he could catch his breath he slipped one hand between the reddened thighs and tugged firmly on Mulder's sack. "Good. But not yet." Alex tested the water; tepid again. He reached in and pulled the plug, then tugged Mulder to his feet again. "Shower." The older man simply stared, fixing him with a look of questions Alex simply did not have the capacity to answer. He washed them both as efficiently as possible, regretfully allowing the torn bandages around Mulder's wrists to loosen and slip off under the water. The older man was passive, slow blinks the only interruption of an otherwise steady gaze. The bar still dangled from the cuff on the right, and he knew it had to hurt. //Remember this, Mulder...// It was only when carefully clinical hands began soaping Mulder's still-erect cock that he moved, threading the unencumbered hand through Alex's own and demanding a more pleasing touch. "Alex... faster, please..." "You always seem to get the best of these little moments." "Give me this-- just this-- and I prom--" Alex crushed the pale body to his own and cut off the flow of words, letting Mulder guide his hand as he wanted to and swallowing the moans in a kiss. "One promise at a time, Mulder..." ******